Olympianstuck
by Tangeh
Summary: It was a nice place, but nothing made him feel at home. Now he was stuck on a quest with near strangers, sticking out his neck for people he barely knew.


Be Jake English. Run From The Monster Guy. ==

Wow, today really isn't your day. First of all, you had to wait thirty minutes for your coffee! Thirty minutes! Then, right when you finally sat down to enjoy your cup of joe, some asshole starts to bug you. You told him to fuck off, and he turns into this giant monster and tries to smash in your face. Luckily, you managed to dodge. Of course, you took off, cursing yourself for forgetting your guns at home, and also for running right down the middle of the bloody street and not taking the sidewalk like a sensible bloke being chased by some sort of ugly tall man.

You run for a good ten minutes when you finally notice something. There was some blond bloke running after you and the monster, waving a sword around. _Is this kid nuts or something? _you wondered, looking back to the road so you wouldn't be squashed.

Be The Blond Bloke. Wave The Sword Around. ==

You frown, glaring at the monster. You somehow manage to get in front of it and the kid, who's ogling at you like you crawled out of a hole in the ground. Ignoring his gaze, you dig around in your pocket for a few seconds, muttering to yourself before locating and tossing the kid a ballpoint pen. "Use this." you mutter, still ignoring his incredulous gaze as you return your focus to the monster, who had waited there patiently like a good monster.

"How in the devil's dickens am I supposed to use this?" the kid exclaims, right as the pen opens into a rather nice sword. He stares at it in amazement, and a smirk grows on your lips.

"That's how." you mutter, still facing the monster, who was getting more then a little impatient. This was going to be such a cool story to tell the others back at camp.

Be Jake Again. ==

"Aw bloody Hell!" you exclaim, holding the sword as you get into a battle stance. The sword was exceptionally well balanced, and it was almost like you were holding nothing. The kid jumped forward and slashed at the monster, who retaliated with an attempt to claw his face off.

"Shit! Watch out for those claws!" he shouts, jumping away just in time, landing on his feet a few yards off. The monster turns towards you, snarling. You hack at it, then dodge it's claws.

"Watching!" you shout back. After a few seconds, you call, "Oi, mate, what the bloody hell is that thing?" He jumps up, going for a headshot but hitting the ugly bloke in the back. The monster flailed it's arms angrily, trying to hit the blond off.

"It's a Langstrygonian giant!" he shouts, still on the monster's back. It's flipping out now, flailing it's arms and snarling. It would be almost comical if the thing hadn't tried multiple times to kill you horribly.

"Lans fry gon again?" You ask, getting slapped roughly by the creature before quickly getting back to your feet.  
"Sure, we can go-" he's thwacked off of the giant's back before he can finish, landing with an indignant "Oof!". For a few seconds, he lies there, then he sits up. "...With that." he finishes pushing his pointy glasses back up his nose.

You trip the giant, and before it can get up the blond races up and plunges his sword straight through it's forehead. The body fizzles into dust. "Aaand it explodes into dust." You say as the sword... Pen... Sword... Thing, turns back into its pen form. He shrugs and somehow shrinks his pen back down to a highlighter, which he shoves into his pocket.

"It's what most monsters do when you kill 'em." he mutters after a second. You both stand there for a few seconds more, silent. Then he walks a few steps closer and extends a hand. "Dirk Strider, son of Hephaestus." he introduces himself.

You look over to him, then down to his hand "I'm Jake, Jake English, mate. Uh, here's your pen..." You say, extending your hand and giving him back while shaking his hand. _Hephaestus? Isn't he a... A god or something? _

He puts the pen back in your hand, mutters something about needing it later, then looks to the sky and gives a shrill whistle. "Where's that damned horse..." he mutters under his breath, just as a reddish brown pegasus flies down and lands in front of the two of you. "About time." The horsebird whinnies indignantly. He looks to you. "Climb on."

You do so, and he hops on behind you. "Halfling blood like ours is bound to attract more monsters. We should head to Camp now." he mutters, looking around like a monster might pop up out of nowhere. You tilt your head to the side.

"Halfling?" you ask, and he looks at you like you've just asked if the sky was blue. Then he nods.

"Halfling, Demigod, Godspawn. Whatever floats your boat I guess." With that, he whistles again, and the pegasus takes to the air. "We're going to Long Island, that's where Camp is!" he shouts over the winds.

"Long Island? Isn't that in New York?" You ask, stunned at how far it is. He nods once, then remains silent for most of the trip, which takes a few hours. When you both can finally see Long Island, he speaks up.

"Now, if you want to back out, this is NOT a good time." You don't respond, because you feel like if you were to talk, you'd vomit all over the place. You've been thinking on this whole situation, and you can't come to a clear conclusion in your head. The subject is making you have a dull throb in your head, or maybe its the altitude, or maybe its the fact that you jumped on a flying horse with some random boy and are flying to a camp..._ All the bloody above_. You decide. Then the pegasus lands and Dirk sends him on his way.

This Has Gone On Long Enough. Be Dirk Strider Now. ==

"So, welcome to Camp Halfblood." you wave a hand at all of the buildings and people and animals milling around. You wave at a few friends who noticed you.  
"Looks like Greece..." Jake mutters, glancing around and waiting for further explanation as to why the bloody hell he was here.

You shrug, then turn to face him. "Well, it is a camp for Greek demigods. As I said before, I'm a son of Hephaestus. You're a kid of a god too." You ponder for a few moments. "I'd have to say Nike." It was pretty much a wild guess.

"Kid of a god? Golly, I think you have the wrong chap, mate! And who the bloody hell is Nike?" He asks, looking as if he was trying to remember something.

"Nike. Goddess of victory," you say, then you continue," And yes, you are a demigod. Most mortals can't get into camp." You glance at the gate, which fizzled with magical energy once and a while.

"Oh, that lady..." You mutter, pondering this for a moment "Why should I... Well, no there's several reasons why I should believe you, so that's not a valid question to be asking." Jake says, then he pauses and seems to mull all of the new information over. "Well, if I am a child of a god, what does that mean? Am I all the suddenly bloody important?"

You shake your head and say, "Not exactly. If anything, it's sort of shitty to be a god's kid. One, you have the fact that they might be married, and two, you're to a monster as a snausage is to a dog." Then you smirk and continue with, "Of course, it does come with some benefits. Such as, abilities far superior to an ordinary mortal." Fuck, now I probably sound like Charon. You glance over at Jake, then say "Charon could probably explain this a lot better than I can."

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Charon walks over and greets Jake, then leaves to go do his centaur stuff. Jake mutters something under his breath, then turns to you and asks, "Why do you think my parent was Nike?" You shrug.

"Random guess, I suppose. Now, come on, we should go set you up with a different weapon, 'less you prefer to keep that sword." He hesitates, looking at the pocket where the sword was, then walks over to your side.

"Dirk, was it?" He asks. You nod and give a "Yup." It's silent as you both walk to the armory. You pull the door open and pick up a large axe. "What about this? No...This?" You hold up a dagger, which he makes a face at. "Nope...Well, look around I guess." You yourself move to the back of the shed and mill around, looking over the weapons. Just as you pick up a nasty looking mace and turn to him, you see that he appears to have chosen two pistols. You set the mace down. "So, found what you want?" He nods, and you both leave the armory.

"Well, since you got your weapon and stuff, you can go do whatever the fuck it is you want to do. Unless you want a tour of the Camp." You offer, and he accepts. You walk past each cabin, explaining what it is and who goes where. He frowns when you talk about the Hermes cabin.

"Why is that one always so full?" He asks, motioning to the Hermes cabin. You look over, seeing kids sitting in the floor.

"It's where the undefined kids go too. The ones who's parents didn't claim them." you remember your first night in there, crowded and cramped. "They're building a cabin for the undefines now, though."

He looks troubled, but only nods. You're about to say something, but someone shouting the word fuck several times interrupts you, and you look over to see an Ares kid. You grimace and mutter, "Oh, and there's an Ares child. Lovely bunch, aren't they?"

Jake rolls his eyes and says, "I can tell. Now, is that all there is, Strider?" You nod.

"Pretty much, it's dinner time now. Come on, I'll show ya there." you say, turning towards the place where they ate and motioning for him to follow as you walked towards it. When you arrived, it was utter chaos, almost everyone was engaged in a food fight. You ignored it, dodging a few pieces of food and sitting down to eat. Jake walked over to his table and sat down as well.

About three minutes in, a glob of mashed potatoes hits you on th side of the face, and an Apollo girl sets her spoon down on the table, acting like nothing happened. You sigh, then wipe it off and continue your meal._ Bunch of immature little bastards._

Be The Apollo Girl. BE AN IMMATURE LITTLE BASTARD. ==

You are now the Apollo girl, more specifically Terezi Pyrope. You take another spoonful of whatever shit is on your plate, then, grinning widely, you hurl it in a random direction. You don't know who it hits, but you hear a shout of FUCKASS and not a second later an apple has hit you in the forehead. You flinch back, then pick up your plate, reach back, then throw the plate, hitting the same kid in the back of the head with it. You smirk at the sight of mashed potatoes, gravy, steak, broccoli and other foods sliding slowly down the now infuriated Ares' back. Your cabin cheers, and your grin widens.


End file.
